Someone Like You
by Neon Shici
Summary: This isn't one of those fairy tales, I'm not going to lay around looking helpless while waiting for a prince to rescue me. I'm not going to depend on someone else to change my life. I'm perfectly capable of that myself.
1. Retrieval

Someone Like You

(Previously known as You're My Eternity)

Chapter One: Retrieval

Disclaimer : I do not own anything. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer with the exception of Keith.

_Hello everybody. Those of you who has previously read this fanfiction, you would remember (or maybe you won't considering my last update was sometime in September or something last year. Quite a long time, I'm aware and I'm sincerely sorry. I couldn't seem to get an inspiration to continue.) that I had made many mistakes writing it. So therefore, I figured that since I'm stuck in the story I might as well make some corrections on things that sound a bit off._

_So while I was sitting on my computer desk the other night, I was rereading this and trying to fix whatever mistakes._

_And I'm happy to say that while I was editing, I've created this new spark to write the story. Oh, and _Keith _was invented. He is an OC (what the freak does that stand for anyway?) and I _own _him. He will show up in future chapters that normally wouldn't include him. I'm just spicing up the story._

Enjoy.

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_"You're not good for me, Bella." How well I knew I wasn't good enough for him..._

_"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," he ordered._

_"And I'll make you a promise in return," he said. "I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without anymore interference from me. It would be as if I'd never existed."_

_"...a clean break would be better for you."_

_"Goodbye, Bella,"_

Again and again those words echoed in my mind until it became barely a whisper. Each time I heard it, the meaning seemed to sink in. I lay awake on my bed, thinking of my memories with him. There were just too many, I couldn't relive them all – even in my mind. Not that attempting to relive it was having the desired effects – no, they seem so unreal now, even to me. As if I had imagined it all. And why not? As far as I know, there wasn't a single person that had known Edward was a vampire – if he was even that, or maybe just a figment of my imagination. I couldn't confirm with anyone.

I rolled over, feeling the bed beneath me. My bed. It reminded me too much of his absence. I was too weak, I knew, to get over it. Renee had always told me I was strong – how wrong she was. A guy leaves me and I'm a pathetic mess. What's more is some part of me – a fairly large part – still believes that he'll come back. Hadn't they always said, "If you love, let it go. If it was meant to be, it'll come back to you." Wasn't that what we were? Few weeks ago, I hadn't a doubt in my mind that we belonged together. Me and him. Him and me. So, if we were _meant to be_, then where the hell was he now?

Oh, but, definitely he was right on one part. Physically, it was like he never existed – taking away everything that he had any sort of connection with. But it was never the same. I feel as if I've been wandering along in this world with nothing to live for, to die for. I've been searching, without knowing it. Searching for the one person that I couldn't live without. And when I finally found it, a reason to live, to breathe, and to smile – it was sudden all yanked away, without even a moment's hesitation.

I rolled over to the side and glanced at the clock. 3:50 AM. I couldn't sleep. I didn't _want_to sleep. If I did, I would dream of things I don't want to see.

I laughed bitterly to myself; he even occupied the unconscious part of my mind.

I was tired. So tired that on any normal day, I could sleep until the sun went down. But this wasn't a normal day – it hasn't been a normal day since he left. It was like my eyes were begging me to just close them for a while, but my brain just keeps yelling, "NO! NO! NO! NO!" I wished that I _was_ sleeping though. So maybe, when I wake up in the morning, I could feel Edward's arms around me, the cold touch of his skin, my favorite crooked smile and especially the look of love surrounding his butterscotch eyes. I wished this was just a bad dream I could wake up from. And surprisingly, this does feel like a dream - hours, days, weeks seems to fly by without my notice or my consent. I mean, if there were Someone Up There, why didn't he give a damn?

I noticed, with chagrin that love was just like a drug – as cliché as that might sound. It was strangely addicting, absolutely unhealthy and most of all brings harm upon the user - one way or another. It felt like when he left, he shattered my fragile heart. As it broke, I hadn't felt the need to pick back up the little pieces, because I knew, it wouldn't fit. Edward had claimed and taken with him the pieces that were rightfully his. Not that I wanted it any other way, even if he hadn't taken them, I would've plucked out what remained of my heart and hand them to him. But, he had, nonetheless, taken my life, heart and soul. No, that's not right. Edward **was** my life. And since then, I died, along with what's left of my heart.

I heard my alarm ring, and my hand absentmindedly shot up to shut it off. It wasn't until the strange ringing stopped that I had realized that I did. This is how life has been for me since he was gone. Everything, everyone around me was moving on with their life, the world continued to turn, people still do what they always done. But I feel like my personal world froze, stuck somewhere between living and the undead. I like it there. There was always eerie silence, never any emotions involved. I had been way past crying. I hardly cried, either because I knew if I had cried, it meant that I fully accepted that he was gone. And there was no way I could. I tried though, I swear I did. Many times, too. I hadn't resort to crying much. I've never been the waterworks type. Why start now? I knew I was stronger than that.

And that morning I felt a strange determination in my heart. (What was left of it, anyway?) I felt that I should make things almost right for myself again. Almost. Things could never be the same without Edward. But this isn't a fairytale, never was and never will be. No way was I going to lie around looking helpless while waiting for the prince to rescue me – if there was such thing as a prince anyway.

That night (or morning, whichever you prefer. The times of the day don't matter to me anymore) I packed my belongings with the determination to look for Edward. Don't ask me where it was coming from, I didn't know. One second I was sitting there reminiscing about the time when I saw Edward's parents and the next, it was like this giant spark came and I was on my feet and ready to go. My goal was to just get a proper explanation of why I was thrown away. So that maybe, after I had confirmed it, I could get back on track. I didn't dare give myself hope, for all I know - getting back one's life is very difficult to do. When I was with Edward, he had always made me feel like I was actually worth something - a treasure even. A treasure that he was _lucky_ to have. Lucky, hah! I might've misunderstood his feelings but I didn't have to go and actually believe it. Which, if you're wondering, was exactly what I did.

Also, I had to get my life straight, move on - if possible - so if his answer was absolute, and that I hadn't meant to him as he had meant to me, then I'd leave and start a new life. One that didn't include Edward Cullen.

See? Already things are looking much brighter.

I had stuffed a spare outfit, flashlight, passport, and my college funds in a bag. Hastily, I scribbled a note to Charlie. I felt guilty for leaving him but I had to go. There was no other way.

_Charlie,_

_I'm getting my life back. I hope you'll understand._

_Love, Bella_

I left it in my room, I know he'll find it – it's what police instincts are for. I climbed on my window, and with one last look behind, I slowly lowered myself onto the ground. As quietly as possible, so I don't wake Charlie, I crept to my truck. I thanked every god I had ever heard of when I saw that I had parked reasonably far away. Far enough so the noise doesn't wake Charlie. I quietly drove away, leaving everything behind. But those possessions don't matter to me; I was going to look for the thing that did.

After 20 minutes of idly driving, I decided that I was going to the airport and search for small towns with very little sun. It was my best bet. And I could ask around. Anyone would notice seven insanely beautiful people walking down the streets. Especially small towns, where there are no secrets. I smiled to myself. I'm progressing pretty well. There was hardly anyone awake in Forks right now. I was glad for that. I didn't want to give Charlie any lead on me. The sky was a deep shade of midnight blue, stars clearly visible. The sight would have been breathtaking if had I not been in a hurry. The many trees and green around me appeared to be swinging back and forth - like they are trying to protect a secret. Or, maybe I've developed paranoia.

When I got to the airport, I picked up a map and examined it. Suddenly all my determination from a few hours ago disappeared. Looking at how huge the world really was and the possibility of getting the right place with very difficult. I stood there staring at the map, scared. What was I going to do? I can't go back now. It's too late for regrets. Charlie is probably going to read my letter by the time I get back. And to make it worst, he would really think I'm mentally disabled and send me to a hospital or worst – an asylum, knowing how that turned out with Alice. 'You made a choice, Bella. Now stick with it!' It didn't make the feelings go away, like I had hoped. It grew worst. And then it happened.

Out of nowhere, I heard a musical voice. Velvet. "Bella, go back to Charlie," I whipped around searching for the origin of the voice. I frantically ran around, looking for him. Hair whipped in my face as I searched. My heart was beating too fast. Abnormally fast. I looked up – and saw a guy standing there with his back to me.

And I ran.

"Edward!" I yelled – well, sobbed. And he turned around.

But it wasn't him.

The deep wound that I had been running away from reopened. He wasn't here. And then, that was the first time I cried. I sat down, rest my chin on my knee and sobbed. It hurt so much. Almost as if the voice felt me being sad it said again "Bella, go back to Charlie." I shook my head wildly. "NO!" I yelled as loud as I can. People turned to stare at me, curious. The guy who I had mistaken for Edward – but was actually far from with dull dark brown eyes that you couldn't really tell where the pupil ended and the iris begins – bend down and whispered as if speaking loudly would cause another round of hysterics, "Are you okay?" I shook my head.

"Bella, stop being so stubborn," the mysterious voice said again. Oh, how I wished the voice would remain forever. And because of that, I continued to shake my head, despite the looks that people were giving me. Then it was quiet. As if he had left my mind. I sat there, unmoving, afraid that I might risk not hearing his voice if I moved. Then I was absolutely certain that he wasn't here. To my surprise, I felt something on my cheeks. I looked up. The guy I had mistaken for Edward was wiping my face with a handkerchief. I reluctantly stood up.

"Thanks…um," I trailed off, feeling extremely tired.

"Keith." He answered. I faked a smiled.

"You're…?" he asked.

"'Ella." My voice was too hoarse for speech.

He nodded, "Ella, then. Where are you headed?"

Where _was_ I headed? The question had been rhetorical. But the voice answered me, barely a whisper, so low, I might've missed it. It said "Try South America," I was stunned.

"South America," I blurted. Keith nodded happily, "So am I, we should go together."

I regained my composure, I couldn't waste time, or I'll get caught by Charlie. With that, I got up, even more determined to find Edward and give him a good beating then make him explain, I walked to buy the ticket.

I had purchased the first flight to South America; after I had made sure it was out of sun's way. I found a city south of South America, one with a name so long I hadn't bothered pronouncing it. It was perfect with an average of 332 days with cloud cover a year. I figured that I might as well listen to the voice inside my head. And as luck has it, the flight was in 30 minutes. I was even more nervous than before, as I gave the lady my ticket and quickly got on the plane before I changed my mind and backed out. I needed all the strength I had left in my body, this was no time to have a mental argument in my head about whether I should board or not. The ride was a big blur; I just repeated in my head again and again what my plan was. It was simple, but I still had to do it.

Distractions, they are called.

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_Thanks for reading. Please review or not if you do not wish to. Maybe you remember this from before (which, I doubt you will) but now the entire plot would change. I'm sorry if some of you favored the other plot and feel that this was boring but this was the only way to get an inspiration out of me._

_If you would like to read the first unedited version of this, the one that was titled You're My Eternity, instead of Someone Like You, feel free to message me or email me.  
_


	2. Kindred

Someone Like You

(Previously known as You're My Eternity)

Chapter Two: Kindred

Disclaimer : I do not own anything. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer with the exception of Keith - my own creation.

_I sure gave a certain somebody a whole new personality. Actually, I think I gave everybody new personalities. Bella included._

_Just a warning though, my story is not like a fairytale - just as my summary suggests. So please do not expect a typical ending. You would understand what I mean by "typical" once you finish reading this story. And once I'm finished writing it. _

_Don't be anxious - chapter three would be right up._

Enjoy please.

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"Please remain seated and make sure your seatbelt's buckled. The plane would be landing in 20 minutes. It is 45 degrees Fahrenheit outside, slight drizzle and..." Perfect. Raining meant that there was no sun, which also meant that there was a chance Edward was there. As I listened for the same message being repeated in 3 different languages, the same pain that I had experienced the last couple of months flood through me. Then as quick as it had come, it left - numbing every limb, every muscle, and every nerve. It was unsettling – but pleasantly so. Usually I just sat there and distracted myself while the numbness goes away, but this was significantly different. This time, I was doing something to stop it all for good. Once and for all. The thought of that made me feel better. I wasn't sure how I was going to react if Edward was indeed here. I thought about it for a second, deciding that it didn't matter.

I would happily give up whatever remainder of my life there is left to see Edward again. Maybe there was a chance that I might see him. But I didn't dare give myself hope; I couldn't stand seeing it being so mercilessly crushed again. And I wasn't sure I could take another disappointment.

A very small but prominent part of me can't help but hope that he was affected – even the slightest - by _my _absence. How many times have I wished that I had stumbled, even accidentally, into his mind as many times as he had crossed mine? But most of all, I hoped to believe that all the times we had spent together - all those times he told me that he loved me - was not just a lie. I longed to hear him say that there was even a tiny fraction of truth behind those actions. I wanted to know that my feelings weren't taken for granted.

I felt a familiar nauseated feeling as the plane plunged downward, preparing to land. I was getting more anxious. The plane up righted itself again and at once, everyone around started moving, ruffling bags, trying to squeeze through the crowd, talking. I stayed seated. Being the..."graceless" (for a lack of a better word) girl that I am, surely trying to reach the exit was a hopeless task. So instead, I looked around at the mob of people that was either fighting to remain standing and/or trying to get to the exit. I spotted Keith at the end of my row. He, like me, remained seated and appraised the crowd with an amused look.

I caught his eye and gave him a polite smile. He winked in my direction and mouthed, "Meet you in the front." I nodded, curious but glad that I had a companion on this hopeless – and reckless – journey I was making.

Then, suddenly, out of the peripheral view of my eye, I caught something that was a striking tone of red – like flames. I had seen it by the exit. Once I turned to identify what that was, I found to my disappointment that it was gone. It was a familiar shade of red though I couldn't quite place where I had seen it. Just a flash, so quickly gone that as I sat there assessing it, I was convinced that it was merely my imagination. It surely wouldn't have been the first time my imagination played tricks on me.

I watched as people continued to file out. When the plane became less populated, I decided that it was safe now to leave. I already had my bag on my lap, so I just straightened up and started towards the exit, following a few steps behind a man in front of me. I saw, to my surprise, that Keith followed. I decided to leave at least two steps between me and the man in front of me. Should – god forbid – I trip, he would be perfectly safe from my mishap.

As I exited the plane, I followed everyone else to the exit, walking pass the line of people crowding around the circular thingy waiting to receive their luggage. I headed for the door as it slid open. Fresh air hit me square in the face and it wasn't until then that I realized how I missed it. I stood for a moment outside the door, before picking a random path to follow.

"Wait, Ella! Wait up. Hold – on!" I turned around and saw the running figure of Keith as he ran to catch up. I blinked, but waited nonetheless. It took him less time than I would have thought and as he reached me, not even panting, he said coolly "Where are you going?"

Such a simple question, but I knew that I've yet to discover the answer.

I shrugged and replied, "Wherever my legs take me, I suppose."

I raised my eyebrows at him, "And you?" He grinned, "Same here, coincidentally. Shall we go together then?" I considered it. It wouldn't be bad to have someone here, a companion. Besides, what are the chances that I would find Edward? Just about none. And it wasn't as if I could survive forever on my college fund – which admittedly wasn't a lot.

"Are you sure? I mean, I really haven't got a clue where I'm headed." He didn't seem bothered but instead bent down to pick up my bag and continued down the path.

The path was very narrow. There wasn't anyone else in sight, as far as I can see. It was strangely relaxing, being not by myself but with Keith. He was a complete stranger to me, yet there was comfort I found in him. I looked ahead and saw that the path had twisted into the forest. I stopped. Convinced as I was that I no longer cared what happened to me, I was still cautious. Besides, I made Edward a promise. One I knew that I wanted to keep despite the fact that he wasn't here anymore to care. I was still wary of the forest.

"Scared?" Keith grinned wickedly at me. I scowled at him, but did not reply. "Let's just walk around the forest. Maybe we'll find some kind of a restaurant or something. You're hungry aren't you?" He asked, considerately. I looked down stupidly at my stomach as if it looking for an answer written there. "And are you not?" I asked.

"Somewhat." He replied but with a tone of amusement. I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly suspicious but it was like I wasn't sure exactly _what_ I was suspicious about. I suppose it was probably the tone he used to say that. It was all…too familiar.

We walked on, down twisted roads and stony paths. It seemed as if the thing was never going to end. There was no civilization in sight. This was only the rainiest place in South America, why wasn't there anything in sight? I started to grow impatient after three long hours of hiking. My annoyance interfered with my concentration on my footwork – leaving Keith to grab onto my arm frequently just when I felt like I was going to slip. He didn't seem to mind for having to help me and I was thankful.

Finally, when there was the barest crack of sun left in the sky that wasn't hidden by the horizon, I looked up and saw in the distance that there were two shabby broken down buildings. They resembled apartment buildings but were somewhat…crocked. There were no words that could describe it exactly. There was a handwritten sign on the door that was wearied away by the rain and whatever unfortunate nature disasters. The sign of illegible for all the ink had probably soaked through whatever cheap material the sign was draw on. I could distinctively make out the letters "Mo".

I stepped inside, half hoping that this was really a motel like the sign barely suggests and half hoping that it wasn't and we would be on our way again to someplace else that I was sure, was far better. The door creaked as I pushed, the "open" sign – thankfully legible – flapped against the wooden door. I heard wind chimes jingle.

There was only one person in sight and she was – to say the least – plump. She was sitting on a green sofa – I was unsure if that was it's original color – facing away from us but towards the television that sat alone in the middle of the room. Men on the television chased each other for a ball. The woman sat expressionless and did not look up as we walked in.

"Um," I started, uncertainly. "Excuse me." My voice barely came out. I stared at her waiting for a response but she merely said, "It's on the table," She pointed at this tiny wooden _thing_ in front of her. It was covered with chips, cookies, snacks, drinks, and many other unidentifiable foods to the point that no flat surface showed. I looked, unsure what I was supposed to find on this "table". She did not offer any more explanation but continued watching the game.

I looked at Keith. He saw me and beckoned that he would handle it. I was happy to let him. "Miss, could we get two rooms please?" She ignored his question and said, once again, "It's on the table." Keith's polite expression did not falter. "What is, miss?" he asked, if not even politer than before. She did not say anything else.

After a minute of silence, Keith had said "Hello? Miss?" when it became clear that she wasn't going to response. Another minute of silence went by and the only movements in the place, as far as we could tell, was the plump lady reaching for a chip. I studied Keith and saw as a flash of annoyance crossed his face. "We would really like two rooms here. Can you direct us where to go?" He asked, less friendly and louder this time. She finally turned around and starred at Keith. "Are you deaf?" she snarled. "I said it was on the fucking table." His expression hardened at the same time that hers became unfocused – like a dream-like state. She looked transfixed into his ocean blue eyes. "Yes." She said, this time she sounded very far away, like she sleepwalking or extremely distracted. "Follow me." She walked, zombie-like, to the stairs that I hadn't seen behind the television.

"What happened to her?" I asked Keith. He looked at me, "What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "She's perfectly fine isn't she?" I nodded. This wasn't much of a big deal, really. So what if she had a sudden change of attitude?

After a flight of stairs, she led us to a small hallway and gestured at a door. Keith opened it and looked inside. "Thanks." And he started to walk in. The lady turned around and started walking back down. "Wait, what about my room?" I spoke down the hallway to her. She didn't appear to have heard me.

Keith was instantly by my side. "She said that there weren't any other rooms available" I looked confused, "She did?" When had she said that? I was with him the entire time and she hadn't spoken. "Yeah, she did. Something about how the other rooms were too dusty and torn down." That makes sense. The motel didn't exactly look good on the outside – why should it look good on the inside? I nodded, consent and followed him into the room.

I saw, to my horror, that there were only one bed in the room. "Okay. I understand how perhaps this motel is freaking crappy but she can't do anything about _that?_" I pointed at the bed. He laughed at my mortification. "Don't worry, dear. I'll take the floor. And no, she said all the rooms – including everything inside the rooms – couldn't be used." I must have looked skeptical because he said, "Really. Besides, what's the harm? You're the one that's going to have the bed."

I awoke with a start. Another nightmare. About the same person. I sat up on the bed, alert from the dream. I noted that I couldn't have slept more than two hours – the sky was still the darkest pitch of black. I tried to calm my racing heart. Racing, yes, but also the sense that it was stabbed by a million knives always present after my nightmares. Specifically, nightmares about Edward.

It took me a while to realize that I was alone. Where had Keith gone, this dead of the night? I was worried that something had happened to him. It could be another 6 hours before the sun rose again, what if he was in trouble? What if he got lost? I couldn't seem to think rationally. I was far too worried about him.

Quickly, I jumped to my feet, ready to leave the room. "Going somewhere, princess?" This made me jump, accelerating once again my heart. My room, which I thought previously with empty with the exception of myself, was occupied by someone else. This someone else had flaming red hair – one that was easily identifiable despite the darkness – and eyes that were just a slightly darker shade than her hair. Her eyes flashed maliciously, and I knew that I was as good as dead. "Victoria." I gasped. I didn't know if she was here the entire time, just waiting for me to wake or if she just recently slipped through my window – the one that I opened before for fresh air was still open now.

She leaned against the wall, the window to her immediate right. The light from the moon lit up half her face – effectively making her deadlier. A smirk played on her lips. She was satisfied that she had caught me off guard. Satisfied also, I was sure, that there was tremor of fear in my voice as I croaked her name.

I continue stand, frozen from the foot of my bed – about three feet to the door. The exit so close yet I knew if I made one move to leave, she would have my neck snapped in an instant – and the terrifying thing of all was that it wouldn't have taken any effort. I didn't dare move, prolonging the inevitable. A small fearless part of me hoped that Keith was too far away to burst in upon this scene. His distractions wouldn't mean much to Victoria – she could kill him as easily as she would to me.

"Didn't think that I wouldn't meet little Eddie here." She said, almost to herself. "Expected him to be protecting his woman." She continued, "Guess I thought too highly of him. How disappointing, he doesn't care much for you anymore, does he?" The words she spoke were weapons enough. Like knives, her voice cut through the silence and through my heart. She knew she had hit a nerve.

I stood up straighter – if possible from my frozen state. "You are correct." I spoke without a tint of fear anymore. However, there was finality in my tone; I knew the end was near. I was going to go down fighting. "He no longer cares for me, if he had at all. But why, may I ask, are you after me?" If I was going to die, I expected that she was just kind enough – or maybe just proud enough – to quench my curiosity.

"He killed James." She murmured and I was surprised to hear pain in her words. I was not accustomed to vampires, especially one as malevolent as her to show any sort of emotion that wasn't along the lines of cruelty. In spite of myself, my heart went out to her. Here was a kindred spirit who also lost someone more important than life itself – someone, like me, who couldn't seem to fathom why the very being that had given us a reason for an existence, the truest source of our happiness were being yanked away so.

She looked into my eyes; I saw the cloud the confusion over her face. We were both lost, she seemed to also have realized now. Lost without our light. "Funny, isn't it, girl?" she gave me a sad smile, the vengeance momentarily gone from her eyes. "We seem to be going through the same situation." I nodded solemnly. I saw her step towards me. Saw that the need for revenge was still present – though I recognized other emotions. I braced myself for it.

She and I both knew perfectly well that a life without the ones we love wasn't a life worth living. Pity that she was immortal. But I wasn't and she was aware of that. In a twisted way, she was doing me a favor actually. And I was doing her one. After she killed me – a part of her would no doubt be at peace. Perhaps not all. Never all. One just couldn't achieve a neutral state of mind when the one we so desired aren't here. I really pitied her.

"Perhaps, if circumstances were different, we might have been friends." I was only the slightest startled to hear her voice beside my ears. I felt her cold breath on my neck. Her hands had reached up to secure my position – locking my arms and my head to make sure I didn't move. In vain – I wouldn't move from this position. I was going to finally rest in peace.

Even if my journey to Edward was unaccomplished, I did not mind. Death seemed to me as a comforting option. Of course, I would have been happier if I had confronted Edward first then have died but once I'm dead, it wouldn't matter much. I smiled, hoping wickedly that Edward would hear of this. That he knew I had died because of his mistake.

It was quite hilarious really, how much I loathe him and loved him so.

"Yes," I agreed with her. "You seem surprisingly likable now that I'm not so afraid of death." I was surprised by the tease in my voice.

Her lips pressed against my neck, I felt a smirk there. "You may feel that way, but I _am_ sorry."

It wasn't clear to me what she was sorry for – at least not at that moment. Nothing else really matter much though. Not when I felt a searing pain in my neck and warm blood trickle down my neck and onto my shirt.

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_Just one tiny comment._

_I've always felt that Prince Charming in _**Cinderella**_ was unjustified. I mean, the girl barely knew him and he only loved her for her beauty. If you ask me, there was no love there at all. She was just entranced by the joy of everything. _

**Entranced of being somebody she had never imagined she would be.**

_If I've ever given hints on my stories, there is one huge one right there. Think about it. Ponder over it. You'll soon understand._


	3. New Beginning

**Someone Like You** by: Connie Shi

Chapter Three: New Beginning

_Hey guys! Connie here with chapter three. Sorry for taking so long, this time I have no excuses. Chappie 4 is on the way so please enjoy and keep reading._

_Have a complaint? Feel free to PM me! And really, I would really love to know what you think of this chapter. I'm anticipating a twist at the end. However, I kind of think that I screwed up on the characterization in this chapter? I'm making everyone sound kind of like me._

_Sorry about that._

**Disclaimer: **All familiar characters, settings and other thingy mabbobers all belong to Stephenie Meyer. Please support her by purchasing her books. I do not own anything and I do not intend to make any profit from this.

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I had no idea how many times I had screamed in pain. I would have believed - and maybe even wished – that I was in hell. Which phase was I in? Was this the torture? I couldn't imagine an eternity of this. Was this really hell?

Perhaps I had no right to be surprised. I had already suspected, in my delusional state of mind that I had always been there. It wasn't just the constant torture – self-torture on the most part – or the pain of trying to hold myself together every few seconds. Just the plain fact that any place in the world, no matter how extravagant, without Edward was hell.

But I supposed I underestimated those _divine _powers, whatever they might be. I thought this place wouldn't have been much different than the state I was in. I could not understand why I was going through this immense pain. Could this still be part of the dying process? Instead of the rumor about a tunnel that was split both ways, you had to endure a lifetime of pain? Was I going to have to endure this forever? And just when I thought that I would have been better off dead? If I knew that hell would have been so excruciatingly painful, I would've gladly been a good person. Besides, what happened to an afterlife? When I was still alive, I've always looked forward to reincarnation. It really appealed to me how you get another chance at life, a chance to be whoever you want to be.

An immense burning flashed down my arm, leaving a fiery path in its wake. I felt the eternal flames all the way down to my toes. I was thrashing about, digging my fingernails into my arms, my legs, my body and just about any other place I could reach. That wasn't right. It couldn't have been. My _body? _Really, that's not right at all. If I thought about it, I would have remembered that going to another dimension would require leaving behind your body. If I thought about it, I would have realized that I still feel flesh under my fingernails. But naturally, I was too **preoccupied **to pay it much mind.

Another new wave of flames, but this time it was down my throat. What a strange place. Whoever said that hell had been a fire pit would've been happy to know that he was correct. Not that I would be able to tell him that. No, I was already dead. I half expected to get whipped. In the movies, hell was portrayed as the sinner being hanged – arms and legs secured in place – and a death god or something would whip them for eternity. Then again, that still wasn't right. I was _thrashing _wasn't I?

"Shhhh… It's okay." I heard someone speak. Was this person talking to me? That's weird, would hell offer consolations? Somehow, that was a comforting thought. Maybe hell wouldn't be so bad if I had a friend.

I groaned and dug my fingernails into my arm some more but surprisingly I did not feel the pain I had expected to feel. "Can't have you doing that to yourself, can we?" another person spoke this time, every word dripping with wicked pleasure – as if it was somehow amusing to watch me suffer like this. But this was more like it. Who has ever heard of consolations in hell? I was too tired, too exhausted, too hurt, too remorse to identify the voice, but I knew that I was a girl. Instead, I punched any and everything within arm's reach – a much better option compared to thinking.

"Tough one, isn't she? I've always have high expectations." The second one spoke again, the same evilly amused tone still present. Definitely a girl. Her speech was followed by a shrill laugh, one that bounced off the walls – at least, what I assumed were walls – and came back to attack me in every direction. When was this person going to _shut up?_

"How do you know her? You seem surprisingly familiar with her, no?" the soothing tone spoke this time and I was relieved to hear that I was gentle, it null the annoyance I had with the shrill laugh. Who was this person? Is that a male voice?

"We had a past." The second replied. "It wasn't a pretty one." Sadness filled her voice. I knew that I've heard that voice somewhere.

"You say it like she's associated with one of our kind…? Am I wrong?" the gentler voice spoke this time. The voice was filled with concerned curiosity.

Silence followed his words. I could almost see the girl debating in her mind what her answer should be. Finally she replied, both me and the male had been anticipating this. I had stopped thrashing but the ever-present pain remained, though just a tickle now. "Not one of us, _some _of us. An entire coven actually. Her mate – no, he's not with her anymore – her…_acquaintance_ killed James."

A speculating silence from the male this time, the female was still lost in thought. "Hadn't you said that James was hunted by those Yellow Eyes?" his voice was cautious, he didn't want to startle the girl.

"Ah. Yes. They were all Yellow Eyes. Freaking psychos if you ask me. How one can maintain their _diet_ for an entire year, much less a few decades is beyond me." She spat the word _diet, _anger deep in her voice. She was trying to remain calm.

"Yes, indeed." The male agreed. "And why, may I ask Victoria, are you after this defenseless girl?" That was her name. Victoria. An awfully familiar name, but I couldn't seem to recall where I've heard it. It was a blurry image, but a striking tone of red entered my vision.

"I do not see this girl as defenseless. She wouldn't be when she wakes up. And she hadn't been even before her change. Makes one envy, doesn't it? She always has a protector." Her voice was resigned. Jealousy was evident.

The male spoke, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "You know, Victoria, for a second there I really thought that you were referring to me." A challenge edged around the query.

"Actually, my dear Keith, I am."

"You're wrong. See, the problem with you is that you are too arrogant. You really believe you know everything, don't you?" he replied, coolly.

"I wouldn't believe that if I wasn't right all the time." She retorted.

A sigh escaped the male's lips. "Victoria—." He was cut off by a shriek so loud it filled the silence like a sharp blade. It took me about ten seconds before I realized that I was the one that was screaming. Strange, my voice didn't sound like me anymore.

"It's coming to a stop." The female spoke, mostly to herself.

It was like she set off a trigger with her voice. The second that the last word escaped her mouth, the flames started to retreat. First from my toes, then my feet, then the legs, the thigh, the stomach and up – until they all seemed to come together in one place, the throat. And it stayed there. It wasn't moving. I was filled with unquenchable thirst.

I opened my eyes, slowly, afraid of what I would find. I was surprised by the sudden focus that I immediately snapped them shut again. The two voices that battled earlier couldn't be heard. I tried again, this time a lot slower.

Everything was in amazing focus, the tiny speck of crap that the flies left the night before became huge when I focused on it. The blue hummingbird that was flying 5 miles away from the window was just starting to get tired. I could see each and every stitch of the lavender blanket that covered me. I eyes darted to the only red in the room. It registered in my mind as hair. Red hair.

My eyes focused on her eyes. She had eyes that are as strikingly red as her hair. The emotion in her eyes were hard to describe. Perhaps, it was triumph, or maybe it was mockery, or smug, or cocky, or hatred, or jealousy, or even maybe relief.

All I knew was that her smile was genuine. "Welcome back, princess." And there wasn't a trace of mockery in those words.

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_Too OCC? What does THAT stand for anyway?_

Thank you for reading.

Love, Connie.


	4. Eyes

**Someone Like You** by: Connie Shi

Chapter Four: Eyes

_Well, _I _thought that it was fast update. It didn't take my long to write this, the imagination kept coming. I promise that I'll explain about Keith next chapter._

Thanks for the support.

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

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I didn't understand. Everything, from my memories to the identity of the people standing before me were a blurry mess. I knew that the female's name is Victoria. I knew that I've met the male before, probably recently too. But what were they to me? What was I to them?

"Victoria?" I asked, uncertain. My voice was musky, as if I had just woken from a deep sleep. My eyes did not wander from hers. Her bright red eyes startled me, even more so they were unusual. I skimmed her face and her body.

No, nothing else was strange. Just her eyes. Somehow, my conscious told me that those eyes were different. Different than my memories of these…creatures. I remembered them a different color. Perhaps, a different shade. Or maybe even a different shape. It was confusing. Like when you compare two pictures, even when everything was in the same exact spot, something was wrong. Something didn't belong. Was there someone I've met with different eyes than this Victoria girl?

"Had a good sleep?" Victoria asked with no ulterior meaning to her voice this time. I almost laughed out loud. Was that their definition of _sleep?_ That torturous burning? The _fire_? If so, then I would be doing very little of this thing she called sleeping. My memories of sleep were many times more peaceful.

"I was asleep?" I asked. It didn't seem likely.

"Somewhat." She replied, and that was the only answer she was going to give. "Do you remember your name?" she asked, as though forgetting one's name was an everyday occurrence.

I must've looked puzzled because she pressed on, "Well, do you?" I nodded slowly. "Be…" I tried again. "Bel…" The word seemed to be at the tip of my tongue. It seemed to just hang there, with nowhere to go. Bel what? What _was_ my name?

I was so sure that I knew it when she asked me. It seemed almost ridiculous to me that she would think I forgot my name. _My own name!_ Like that was possible. But apparently it was.

"Bell…" What was it? Bellis? Bellie? Bell what? It didn't seem to make sense. None of those were my name. What was my name?

"Forgot, haven't you, princess?" Victoria voice broke my train of thought. I was startled to find that she and the male were still in the room. I looked again into those eyes. I somehow have developed an obsession with them. It was like a game of finding Waldo. Where was he? What was wrong with those eyes? I looked past the color and into the emotion. Pity. She pitied me.

This filled me with rage. I didn't like being pitied. I didn't like people thinking I'm pathetic. "Yes." I spoke firmly and with confidence. Almost as if forgetting my name didn't bother me at all.

Victoria only nodded this time but did not say anything. This time, the male spoke. "What is the last thing you remember?" his voice was the same soothing tone that I remember from my sleep, as Victoria says. It almost sounded like he was trying to calm me down.

I looked at him this time, tearing my gaze from Victoria's eyes with some effort. If that was a game of finding Waldo, than this was even worst. I was absolutely positive that I've met him before. I knew him. But something's changed. Something was different from before I had my sleep. Was it those eyes again? What did they mean? I was sure that people did not normally have red eyes.

I averted my gaze, this time looking at this strange bacteria crawling along the floor of the room. The bacteria fascinated me. It didn't seem to have a solid shape. Only when I was sure that my attention was only on the bacteria did I finally focus on his question. What _was _the last thing I remember?

Eyes. They were eyes. Perhaps that was the reason of my obsession with their eyes. I didn't know. "Eyes. I remember eyes." I tried again to recall more. But it was a blur, as if a video on fast forward.

"_Whose_ eyes?" Victoria asked. That was exactly what I was asking myself. I looked at Victoria. And instantly I knew that she knew something I didn't. She was hiding something. I _felt_ it like it was in the air.

"You're hiding something." I whispered. Victoria's eyes widened, she was surprised. She recovered quickly and smiled knowingly. "Yes, actually I am. But I need you to figure it out yourself. Otherwise, it would be meaningless. Now, I asked you a question. Whose eyes?" she demanded.

I considered. Meaningless? What would that mean? I was going to find out. "I don't know. There isn't a face. Just eyes." I saw her thinking this information over. I was nervous of her response.

"Describe those eyes." She stared straight at me. "What color were they?" she whispered too. I knew instinctively that the color was vital information. This would tell her something useful. Did I want to say it? "I don't know." I said, but changed my mind. What was the harm? "Yellow? Gold? Topaz? Maybe a color in between?" I answered honestly.

I noticed a shift in her expression. I answer had told her something important. I knew it. Victoria looked at me. She looked like she really wanted to say something. "What?" I asked her. Begged her, more like it. I desperately wanted to know what she knew. She just shook her head, "Nothing. What else do you remember?"

I decided to let it drop. I can make her tell me later. "A…man." The picture was vivid. Every detail was sharp. Every curve, every angle was in focus. I was surprised that I hadn't thought of him before the eyes. This picture was so clear, unlike anything I've seen. I elaborated, knowing that she would ask me to anyway. "He has…cooper hair, neither red nor brown. Kind of like a bronze color. He's smiling, and the smile is giving off kind of…like an unearthly shine. His skin is…sparkling. How strange, it looks as if the sunlight is gleaming off of _him_." I gasped, realizing something belatedly. "_His eyes! They're the same color as the ones I've seen before!"_ I exclaimed.

Victoria had a knowing smile on her face again; I could've sworn she expected me to see him. She knew the connection I had with him. She knew. But I didn't. "Tell me." I commanded. I needed to know. What was his name? What did he do? Why wasn't he with me?

"Enough. That's enough." Victoria said, dismissing my demand. "Do you know what you are?" she asked, expectantly.

"No." I knew that I've changed. The sleep had changed me. I wasn't the same person that I was before. I'm something else now. I'm the same as Victoria, the male next to her and the beautiful boy I can see in my mind but whose name I cannot remember. "But I know certain things. Like…my eyes are no longer brown, are they?" I didn't stop to confirm my question, "I don't age anymore. And I…drink…drink…" I couldn't remember the rest.

"Blood," Victoria finished for me. My eyebrows scrunched together. "Yes, blood. Animal blood." I stated. That was part of my memory. The male drank animal blood.

"No!" Victoria shouted. I jumped out of the bed, startled but Victoria was instantly at my side. "No," she spoke calmly, crouching down to look at me in the eye. "We drink human blood. What was that nonsense about animals?" her voice was challenging. I became confused.

"Human…blood?" I questioned her. It seems to make sense to me that I drink animal blood.

"Yes, Bella. Human blood, that's why we have red eyes," she looked at me. Her expression was odd. She was…fascinated.

"Is that my name?" I asked her. It seemed about right. Bella. Yes, my name is Bella.

"It is. But before we go into your identity, I think you should probably look in the mirror." That fascinated look again.

I obliged. Victoria took my hand and practically dragged me into the bathroom. I wasn't used to my legs. When we reached the bathroom, I saw that the male had followed. He had a very serious expression on his face, like he was somehow between pain and relief.

Victoria snapped her hands in front of me, averting my attention. "Focus, girl." I nod and looked in the mirror.

My skin was pale, impossibly pale, and maybe a shade lighter than Victoria's. If there had been any blemish on my skin, it was definitely gone now. My hair seemed to be made of cotton; it was silky smooth and seemed to flow any way I wanted it to.

But what startled me were my eyes.

They were still brown.

However, my pupils were red.

What does that mean?

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_I'll explain that next chapter, too. There are too much to explain. Don't worry, the story is still moving. By now, you should have figured out her power..._


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